


On the Fourth Night of Hannukah....

by BarefootGirl



Series: Eight Ficlets of Hannukah [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 22:55:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9094426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarefootGirl/pseuds/BarefootGirl
Summary: The fourth of 8 planned winter holiday ficlets.Mary doesn't handle being Bunker-bound well.  Fluff, sweat, and minor family revelations follow.





	

"Don't take this the wrong way, boys," Mary said on the fourth day of a steady snowfall, "but you live in a tomb. A dark, gloomy, closed-air-circulation tomb. You can't even tell when it's day or night, except the lights cycle on or off, which by the way is creepy."

“It's not all bad." Dean made a face, as though he wasn't quite certain of that himself. "And anyway, we're past the solstice, so the days will start getting longer now."

Mary wasn't appeased. “Not like we can tell, if we're stuck in here. I understand why they didn’t build this place with any windows, the whole ‘secret secure bunker’ feel would have been ruined, but you’d think they could have found some way to bring natural light down here, if they had access to all this magic and stuff.”

“I’ve looked,” Sam said. “Trust me, I’ve looked. There was a mention of a, um, ‘window of healthy glow’ I thought sounded promising, but Cas translated it, and says it was for,” and he coughed awkwardly, his words trailing off.

“Figures,” Mary said, slumping further down into the sofa. “Entire bunker of brilliance, and guys still think with their dicks.”

“We’re guys,” Dean said. “We can’t help it.”

The look she gave him was equal parts ‘are you kidding me?’ and “stop talking, Dean.” He grinned at her, and raised the beer in his hand in salute. 

She returned it with her own, middle finger wrapped clearly around the bottle.

“Sam was correct. Dean’s sense of humor was clearly shaped greatly by early exposure to his mother.”

Mary twisted the bottle and saluted Cas as well, then choked in surprised laughter when he did a near-perfect - and, she was convinced, utterly intentional - Spock-raising-eyebrow imitation at her.

“Well, whatever the reason, I refuse to stay cooped up here another day, snow or no snow.”

“Your car doesn’t have decent snow tires,” Dean reminded her. “And I’m not bringing Baby out on those roads if I don’t have to. She’s earned a rest.”

“What about Castiel’s car?”

“Needs an oil change and break pads replaced. Seriously, Cas, would it kill you to take it in for a tune-up every million years or so?”

“If I did so, you would only grumble about 'rinky dink mechanics who don’t understand older cars,' and do it all again yourself,” he replied calmly. “So, no.”

“Angel sass. Burns like holy oil.” Sam ducked the pillow his brother threw at him, then picked it up and tucked it behind his back. “But mom’s right, if I don’t see the sun soon, I’m going to go into vitamin D withdrawal. We need to get out of here. I wonder if the Men of Letters had any snowshoes tucked in the equipment room?”

“You have no idea how to snowshoe,” Dean said, and Sam shrugged. “How hard can it be?”

 

Castiel declined to go with them, but there were enough sets of snowshoes tucked into a back storeroom, that the others were able to find ones that fit them, and soon enough, they were outside, under the thick white sky. There was a light new layer of snow over the foot that had already accumulated, too soft for packing, but giving the world a sugar-dusted appearance where it draped over bare tree limbs and stone outcroppings.

“Not exactly the sunny day I’d hoped for,” Mary said, breathing deeply, “but it’ll do. Come on, boys, lace up and let’s go.”

They soon discovered that Mary’s teenaged training gave her a distinct advantage, but Dean picked up the necessary stride more easily than his brother.

“Dean has an advantage,” Sam grumbled. “He’s already bowlegged to start.”

“Quit grumbling, and shorten your stride,” Mary instructed him. “It’s not difficult. Bend your elbows and swing your arms close to your body.”

“I’m too tall for this. My center of gravity’s-“

“Look,” Dean said, a faint whisper from several yards ahead of them.

The small herd of deer were poised by the edge of a snowed-over lake, a handful of does hock-deep in the snow, what looked like two younger deer in the middle, and two bucks, watchful, on the outskirts.

“Your great-grandfather used to bring home deer every autumn,” Mary said quietly. “Mom loved it, but dad… I think he always felt sorry for the deer. Not that he’d ever admit it.”

“Your father?” 

“Samuel?” 

“He… wasn’t always the man you met,” she said. “Or maybe he was, but that wasn’t all he was.” She smiled, a little sadly, and adjusted a strand of hair under her ski cap. “He always liked animals better than people, anyway.

“Come on, I don’t know about you, but my toes are cold and I’ll lay cash money that when we get back, Castiel will have hot chocolate waiting for us.”

Sam was not reluctant to turn around, but he asked “how are you so sure about that?”

“Because I’m pretty sure your brother’s been praying for it, for the past half hour.”

Dean’s guilty expression told Sam she was probably on the mark.

“Last one home has to mop up the snow!” she called, and she took off, Dean close behind.

Sam watched them go , then turned to look back at where the deer were carefully picking their way through the snow, heading in the other direction. One of the bucks was watching him - or looking in their direction, at least - until it saw them leave, then followed after the small herd.

“I like you better out here than on the table, too,” he told them, then set off after his family as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for the lateness of this one - I was gifted surprise tix to see Straight No Chaser last night, and yeah, that won over getting the fic posted. Y'all don't blame me, right?
> 
> I have never actually gone snowshoeing, just watched other people do it.
> 
>  
> 
> Unbeta'd, because my usuals are up in their eggnog and latkes.... :-)


End file.
